


1/02/2019: Made Up Words

by pop_incognito



Series: 365 Drabbles [32]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Background Slash, Crack, Crossword Puzzles, M/M, New Magic, Sibling Rivalry, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 15:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pop_incognito/pseuds/pop_incognito
Summary: Freed and Evergreen bicker about the answer to the Sorcerer Weekly crossword puzzle.





	1/02/2019: Made Up Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is the dumbest thing I've ever written, it barely even counts as Fraxus :/ honestly, I'm so sorry.

“Laxus!” Bickslow crows, perched up in the branch of a tree for some strange reason. “Glad to see you today, finally.” He grins, open-mouthed, his tongue lolling out at Laxus as the Dragon Slayer approaches the small clearing where the Thunder God Tribe have allocated their ‘training area’. Their training sessions tend to get… explosive, so they have been asked (both politely and not) by Mira to not just take it outside, but take it far away too.

A bolt of lightning shoots up into the tree and slams Bickslow back against the trunk, the Seith Mage cackling at Laxus’ grumpy expression. “Shut up,” Laxus mutters, giving a big wide yawn and ruffling his hands through his hair. His coat is clinging onto his shoulder for dear life even more than usual, clearly thrown on out habit on Laxus’ way out the door. “What are you lot even doing awake this early?” Laxus is perfectly cognisant of the fact that it is currently just after midday, he just refuses to admit that other people sometimes like to get up before lunch time.

Evergreen and Freed appear, both sans their usual coats – Laxus spots Freed’s red jacket and Evergreen’s furs folded over a branch a few down from Bickslow, Bickslow’s mask and epaulettes swinging from the tip – both of them with their heads bent in, clearly right in the middle of bickering with each other about something. Bickslow sighs and pinches the bridge of is nose in mock exasperation. “Couldya do something about them?” he whines, pointing at Freed and Evergreen as the two suddenly but heads, growling at each other. Laxus half expects their hair to start fluffing up, the two of them resembling angry cats as Evergreen snaps something and then Freed counters it. “They’ve been at it all morning.”

“Why?” Laxus asks, more interested in watching where this little spat will take them than finding out what caused it – last time Freed and Evergreen got stuck into each other like this (over something asinine like who ate the last bagel or who used the house’s favourite coffee mug when it wasn’t their turn) Evergreen had managed to power boost her Leprechaun spell, and Freed had had to Dark Écriture himself out of it, ‘Shield!’ tumbling out of his mouth and creating a new Écriture.

Bickslow shrugs, his babies floating over his head and providing intermittent commentary as Freed  jabs his finger into Evergreen’s chest making a point. “They both tried to do the crossword in Sorcerer Weekly over breakfast,” Bickslow says as if that explains everything, which it does, because Freed and Evergreen can never agree over crossword answers, and Evergreen responds to Freed’s attack by seizing a lock of green hair and tugging viciously. “I think they’ve both regressed.”

Laxus snorts, and decides that stepping in might be a good idea, just in case Freed starts swinging his sword around or Evergreen takes off her glasses. “Come on you two, how many times do I have to tell you to buy your own copies of Sorcerer if you’re going to fight over the crossword in the guild’s copy?” He shoves an arm between them, curling it around Freed’s chest and dragging the Rune Mage back a foot. Evergreen is liable to bite when she’s this worked up. “Now, what are you bitching about, and is it _really_ worth strangling each other over?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Freed and Evergreen both hiss at once. Laxus thanks whatever deity that oversees who gets born into what family that Freed and Evergreen weren’t actually blood siblings – the world might not have survived their childhood otherwise.

Laxus pulls Freed back another few inches, the hard muscles of Freed’s stomach jumping against Laxus’ arm as the Rune Mage fights the hold for a moment before sagging, pout on his face, into Laxus’ hold. “Blame Evergreen, she started it!”

Evergreen tosses her hair and crosses her arms haughtily. “You can’t just make up words when you don’t know the answers, Freed!” she says, voice accusatory.

“For the _twelfth time_ ,” Freed grits out, “just because _you_ can’t pronounce the word, or you haven’t heard of it, doesn’t make it a fake word!”

It takes a great deal of effort on Laxus’ part not to laugh at the two proud warriors dissolving rapidly into bickering children right before his very eyes. Bickslow, on the other hand, has no such qualms, and he nearly falls out of the tree he laughs so hard, his babies swooping underneath him to keep him upright. “Heavy, heavy!” the tiny tikis complain as Bickslow slumps further and further off the branch, his tongue flapping around obscenely.

“If it’s a real word, then…” Evergreen casts her eyes around defiantly, thinking of some way to make Freed prove that it’s a real word, “make it into a spell! Cast a rune, do an Écriture, whatever!”

They could just go and ask Levy – the little squirt seems to have memorised the entire dictionary while honing her Solid Script casting – but who is Laxus to deny his team an opportunity to grow? He’s such a giving leader, honestly. “Go on, darlin’,” Laxus says to Freed, nudging the Rune Mage a step closer to Evergreen. “Defend your honour. I know you want to.”

Freed scowls, but he lifts his chin and lets his hair fall back, exposing the dark black and swirling purple of his right eye. “Fine,” he says acidly, drawing his sword. “On your own head, be it.” Freed takes a deep breath, focusing intently. It has only been in the last several months, after everything that happened on Tenrou Island, that Freed has actively been able to write his own Dark Écriture instead of thumbing through the tiny book on them he had stolen from the guild library all those years ago. The pages of the poor thing are almost worn to transparency from Freed’s constant referencing of it, making sure he hasn’t missed a single scrap of information even after mastering the technique.

“I’m waiting,” Evergreen goads, her glasses flashing in challenge as she watches Freed.

Freed points his sword at her, possibly instead of poking his tongue at her, before swinging it in an upward arc. “Dark Écriture,” he rumbles, “Syzygy!”

Laxus blinks. He can certainly see where Evergreen is coming from – he doesn’t even need to see it written down to question the reality of it. However, before he can think about it too deeply, bright light erupts before them.

“Holy shit!” Bickslow marvels, and he really does fall out of the tree, eyes glued to the tiny celestial bodies that have appeared before Freed – a sun, a moon, and a lush green planet, elaborate magic circles around all three of them.

Freed swipes his sword down and then holds it out straight, and the three celestial bodies line up, following the directory of Freed’s sword, the effect not unlike the Five Layered Magic Circles that Mystogan used to cast. The entire Thunder God Tribe appear to be holding a collective breath, and then Freed thrusts his sword forward, seemingly acting on his magical instinct. Magic energy rips from the magic circles and shoot forwards like an Ethereon blast, carving a hole straight through the trunk of the tree he was aiming at. With a gasp, Freed drops his sword and clutches his arm to his chest, the sun, moon, and planet disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

“Ow,” he murmurs, wincing. “I think that just sapped all my magic energy.” He’s panting heavily, but the manic grin on his face could give Bickslow’s a run for his money. Freed turns his eyes, both turquoise again, on Evergreen. “Syzygy, the alignment of three or more celestial bodies, and the correct answer to seven, across in today’s crossword puzzle.” He tips his head back and laughs a little. “If I can get that up to strength, just imagine-!”

And they leave Freed to his little power trip, Evergreen torn between scowling at being proved wrong, and looking proud of her pseudo-little brother for upping his skills.

Their training session-cum-intellectual pissing contest is then interrupted by the afore mentioned walking dictionary herself as an irate Levy storms into the clearing, brandishing that week’s copy of Sorcerer Weekly. “Who the hell did my crossword this morning!” she demands, cheeks red and a tiny frown on her face. She cuts quite the adorable angry face. “How many times do I have to tell you guys that I have permanent dibs on the crosswords?”

Freed and Evergreen immediately point at the other, Freed still a little shaky on his feet. Levy narrows her eyes at them, making a rather uncharacteristically threatening ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at the two. Whoever is foolish enough to think that Levy needs Gajeel around to be intimidating is a fucking idiot.

Levy flicks the page of the magazine. “Also, whoever put down ‘euouae’ for fifteen, down, you spelled it _wrong_.” And then she walks away again, leaving Freed looking quite flustered and like he would very much like to go after and defend his spelling.

Laxus shares a look with Bickslow, both of them wondering when on earth they had stopped understanding words. “Remind me to never, ever play Scrabble with these two,” Bickslow says, and Laxus nods sagely.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and leave kudos!


End file.
